The sun is sinking in the west,
    Long grow the shadows dim;
    Have patience, sister, to be blest,
    Wait patiently for Him.

    Thou knowest love, much love hast had,
    Great things of love mayst tell,
    Ought'st never to be very sad
    For thou too hast lov'd well.

    His house thou know'st, who on the brink
    Of death loved more than thou,
    Loved more than thy great heart can think,
    And just as then loves now--

    In that great house is one who waits
    For thy slow-coming foot;
    Glad is he with his angel-mates
    Yet often listens mute,

    For he of all men loves thee best:
    He haunts the heavenly clock;
    Ah, he has long been up and drest
    To open to thy knock!

    F...

Equal is the government of heaven in allotting pleasures among men,
And just the everlasting law, that hath wedded happiness to virtue:
For verily on all things else broodeth disappointment with care,
That childish man may be taught the shallowness of earthly enjoyment.
Wherefore, ye that have enough, envy ye the rich man his abundance?
Wherefore, daughters of affluence, covet ye the cottager's content?
Take the good with the evil, for ye all are pensioners of God,
And none may choose or refuse the cup His wisdom mixeth.
The poor man rejoiceth at his toil, and his daily meat is sweet to him;
Content with present good, he looketh not for evil to the future:
The rich man languisheth with sloth, and findeth pleasure in nothing.
He locketh up care with his gold, and feareth the fickleness...

I know there shall dawn a day
Is it here on homely earth?
Is it yonder, worlds away,
Where the strange and new have birth,
That Power comes full in play?

Is it here, with grass about,
Under befriending trees,
When shy buds venture out,
And the air by mild degrees
Puts winter’s death past doubt?

Is it up amid whirl and roar
Of the elemental flame
Which star-flecks heaven’s dark floor,
That, new yet still the same,
Full in play comes Power once more?

Somewhere, below, above,
Shall a day dawn, this I know,
When Power, which vainly strove
My weakness to o’erthrow,
Shall triumph. I breathe, I move,

I truly am, at last!
For a veil is rent between
Me and the truth which passed
Fitful, half-guessed, half-seen,...

[From Farmer Harrington's Calendar.]

FEBRUARY 5, 18 - .

        Want - want - want - want! O God! forgive the crime,
        If I, asleep, awake, at any time,
        Upon my bended knees, my back, my feet,
        In church, on bed, on treasure-lighted street,
        Have ever hinted, or, much less, have pleaded
        That I hadn't ten times over all I needed!
        Lord save my soul! I never knew the way
        That people starve along from day to day;
        May gracious Heaven forgive me, o'er and o'er,
        That I have never found these folks before!

        Of course some news of it has come my way,
        Like a faint echo on a drowsy day;
        At home I "gave," whene'er by suffering grieved,
        And called i...

Fair Eve, as fair and still
As fairest thought, climbs the high sheltering hill;
As still and fair
As the white cloud asleep in the deep air.

As cool, as fair and cool,
As starlight swimming in a lonely pool;
Subtle and mild
As through her eyes the soul looks of a child.

A linnet sings and sings,
A shrill swift cleaves the air with blackest wings;
White twinkletails
Run frankly in their meadow as day fails.

On such a night, a night
That seems but the full sleep of tired light,
I look and wait
For what I know not, looking long and late.

Is it for a dream I look,
A vision from the Tree of Heaven shook,
As sweetness shaken
From the fresh limes on lonely ways forsaken?

A dream of one, maybe,
Who comes like sud...

In hours of meditation fraught
    With mem'ries of departed days,
Comes oft a tender, loving thought
    Of one who shared our youthful plays.

In gayest sports and pleasures rife
    Whose happy nature reveled so,
That on her ardent, joyous life
    A shadow lay, we did not know;

And bade her look one summer night
    Up to the sky that seemed to hold,
In dying sunset splendor bright,
    All hues of sapphire, red, and gold.

How strange the spell that mystified
    Us all, and hushed our wonted glee,
As sadly her sweet voice replied,
    "Why, don't you know I cannot see?"

Too true! those eyes bereft of sight
    No blemish bare, no drop-serene,
But nothing in this world of light
    And beauty they had ever seen.
<...

I

LOVE'S DAWN


Still thine eyes haunt me; in the darkness now,
The dreamtime, the hushed stillness of the night,
I see them shining pure and earnest light;
And here, all lonely, may I not avow
The thrill with which I ever meet their glance?
At first they gazed a calm abstracted gaze,
The while thy soul was floating through some maze
Of beautiful divinely-peopled trance;
But now I shrink from them in shame and fear,
For they are gathering all their beams of light
Into an arrow, keen, intense and bright,
Swerveless and starlike from its deep blue sphere,
Piercing the cavernous darkness of my soul,
Burning its foul recesses into view,
Transfixing with sharp agony through and through
Whatever ls not brave and clean and whole.
And yet I w...

"Sup up thi gill, owd Peter Prime,
Tha'st have a pint wi' me;
It's worth a bob at onny time
To have a chat wi' thee.
Aw like to see thi snowy hair,
An cheeks like apples ripe, -
Come squat thi daan i'th' easy cheer,
Draw up, an leet thi pipe.
Tho' eighty years have left ther trace,
Tha'rt hale an hearty yet,
An still tha wears a smilin face,
As when th' furst day we met.
Pray tell me th' saycret if tha can
What keeps thi heart soa leet,
An leeavs thi still a grand owd man,
At we're all praad to meet?"

"Why lad, my saycret's plain to see,
An th' system isn't hard;
Just live a quiet life same as me,
An tha'll win th' same reward.
Be honest i' thi dealins, lad,
That keeps a easy mind;
Shun all thi conscience says is bad,
A...

    How one loves them
These wide horizons; whether Desert or Sea, -
    Vague and vast and infinite; faintly clear -
Surely, hid in the far away, unknown "There,"
    Lie the things so longed for and found not, found not, Here.

Only where some passionate, level land
    Stretches itself in reaches of golden sand,
Only where the sea line is joined to the sky-line, clear,
    Beyond the curve of ripple or white foamed crest, -
    Shall the weary eyes
    Distressed by the broken skies, -
    Broken by Minaret, mountain, or towering tree, -
    Shall the weary eyes be assuaged, - be assuaged, - and rest.

At Plymouth Rock a handful of brave souls,
Full-armed in faith, erected home and shrine,
And flourished where the wild Atlantic rolls
Its pyramids of brine.

There rose a manly race austere and strong,
On whom no lessons of their day were lost,
Earnest as some conventicle's deep song,
And keen as their own frost.

But that shrewd frost became a friend to those
Who fronted there the Ice-King's bitter storm,
For see we not that underneath the snows
The growing wheat keeps warm?

Soft ease and silken opulence they spurned;
From sands of silver, and from emerald boughs
With golden ingots laden full, they turned
Like Pilgrims under vows.

For them no tropic seas, no slumbrous calms,
No rich abundance generously unrolled:
In place of Cr...

A free paraphrase of the German.


To weary hearts, to mourning homes,
God's meekest Angel gently comes
No power has he to banish pain,
Or give us back our lost again;
And yet in tenderest love, our dear
And Heavenly Father sends him here.

There's quiet in that Angel's glance,
There 's rest in his still countenance!
He mocks no grief with idle cheer,
Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear;
But ills and woes he may not cure
He kindly trains us to endure.

Angel of Patience! sent to calm
Our feverish brows with cooling palm;
To lay the storms of hope and fear,
And reconcile life's smile and tear;
The throbs of wounded pride to still,
And make our own our Father's will.

O thou who mournest on thy way,
With lo...

Yet life is not a vision nor a prayer,
    But stubborn work; she may not shun her task.
After the first compassion, none will spare
    Her portion and her work achieved, to ask.
She pleads for respite, - she will come ere long
When, resting by the roadside, she is strong.


Nay, for the hurrying throng of passers-by
    Will crush her with their onward-rolling stream.
Much must be done before the brief light die;
    She may not loiter, rapt in the vain dream.
With unused trembling hands, and faltering feet,
She staggers forth, her lot assigned to meet.


But when she fills her days with duties done,
    Strange vigor comes, she is restored to health.
New aims, new interests rise with each new sun,
    And life still holds for her unbounded we...

How strange, in some brief interval of rest,
    Backward to look on her far-stretching past.
To see how much is conquered and repressed,
    How much is gained in victory at last!
The shadow is not lifted, - but her faith,
Strong from life's miracles, now turns toward death.


Though much be dark where once rare splendor shone,
    Yet the new light has touched high peaks unguessed
In her gold, mist-bathed dawn, and one by one
    New outlooks loom from many a mountain crest.
She breathes a loftier, purer atmosphere,
And life's entangled paths grow straight and clear.


Nor will Death prove an all-unwelcome guest;
    The struggle has been toilsome to this end,
Sleep will be sweet, and after labor rest,
    And all will be atoned with him to fr...

There is in all the sons of men
A love that in the spirit dwells,
That panteth after things unseen,
And tidings of the future tells.

And God hath built his altar here
To keep this fire of faith alive,
And sent his priests in holy fear
To speak the truth--for truth to strive.

And hither come the pensive train
Of rich and poor, of young and old,
Of ardent youth untouched by pain,
Of thoughtful maids and manhood bold.

They seek a friend to speak the word
Already trembling on their tongue,
To touch with prophet's hand the chord
Which God in human hearts hath strung.

To speak the plain reproof of sin
That sounded in the soul before,
And bid you let the angels in
That knock at meek contrition's door.

A friend to lift...

May good humor preside when good fellows meet,
And reason prescribe when'tis time to retreat.

"Virtue is but a trifle!" Brutus said
In his defeat; nor was he cozened.
What man did his own goodness e'er advance
Or piety preserve from evil chance?
Some unknown foe confuses men's affairs;
For good and bad alike it nothing cares.
Where blows its breath, no man can flee away;
Both false and righteous it hath power to stay.
Yet still we vaunt us of our mighty mind
In idle arrogance among our kind;
And still we gaze on heaven and think we see
The Lord and his all-holy mystery.
Nay, human eyes are all too dull; light dreams
Amuse and cheat us with what only seems.
Ah, dost thou rob me, Grief, my safeguards spurning,
Of both my darling and my trust in learning?

        1.

        FROM thine, as then, the healing virtue goes
        Into our hearts--that is the Father's plan.
        From heart to heart it sinks, it steals, it flows,
        From these that know thee still infecting those.
        Here is my heart--from thine, Lord, fill it up,
        That I may offer it as the holy cup
        Of thy communion to my every man.

        2.

        When thou dost send out whirlwinds on thy seas,
        Alternatest thy lightning with its roar,
        Thy night with morning, and thy clouds with stars
        Or, mightier force unseen in midst of these,
        Orderest the life in every airy pore;
        Guidest men's efforts, rul'st mishaps and jars,--
        'Tis only for their hearts, and nothing more...

Unfading Hope! when life's last embers burn
When soul to soul, and dust to dust return,
Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour!
Oh! then thy kingdom comes, Immortal Power!
What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly
The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye!
Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey
The morning dream of life's eternal day
Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin,
And all the phoenix-spirit burns within!

Oh, deep enchanting prelude to repose,
The dawn of bliss, the twilight of our woes!
Yet half I hear the parting spirit sigh,
It is a dread and awful thing to die!
Mysterious worlds, untravell'd by the sun!
Where Time's far-wandering tide has never run,
From your unfathom'd shades, and viewless spheres,
A warning c...